"I must get this tree to the river bank," he, said to himself, and
looked around for some limb which might be cut off and used for a
pole.

But no such limb was handy, and even had there been there would
have been no time in which to prepare it for use, for the rapids
were now in plain sight, the water boiling and foaming as it
darted over one rock and another, in a descent of thirty feet in
forty yards.

"This won't do!" muttered the boy, and wondered if it would not be
best to leap overboard and try to swim to safety. But one look at
that swirling current made
him draw back.

"I reckon I had best stick to the tree and trust to luck to pass
the rocks in safety," he muttered, and clutched the tree with a
firmer hold than ever.

The strange craft had now stopped circling, and was shooting
straight ahead for a rock that stood several feet above water. On
it went, and Sam closed his eyes in expectancy of an awful shock
which would pitch him headlong, he knew not to where.

But then came a swerve to the left, and the tree grated along the
edge of the rock. Before Sam could recover his breath, down it
went over the first line of rapids. Here it stuck fast for a
moment, then turned over and went on, throwing Sam on the under
side.